He has helped me out of scrapes though, no end of times. The vengeance of the assailants did not stop here. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. Of his own certain knowledge he could tell them that. That boy was the carpenter's apprentice, Jack Sheppard. “His stipend forbade it,” she said, and seemed to fall into a train of thought. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. ‘A word, if you please, my friend.
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